Blood on the Tide by Chris O'Donoghue

Author:Chris O'Donoghue [O'Donoghue, Chris]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781910693988
Publisher: Boghopper Books
Published: 2017-09-23T22:00:00+00:00

Russell and Weeks had picked themselves up and brushed down their wet and muddy clothes as best they could after their tussle with the German giant, who was now being escorted up the steps to the quay. The ducking in the sea and the blow he had received when Rankin came crashing down seemed to have subdued him. The soldier was in an even worse state and two of the PCs were all but carrying him up the slippery stone staircase. Both men stood on the quayside, water running off their sodden clothes and puddling round their feet. Rankin needed the support of the officers to stand up but Ludwig shrugged off a helping hand and stood sullenly, his head bowed and his bound hands clasped, as if in prayer, before him.

Russell walked up to him and began: ‘You are under arrest and….’ but got no farther. With a roar that wouldn’t have shamed a raging bull, Ludwig lowered his head and charged. Russell had the presence of mind to leap sideways and the bulk of the huge man just brushed his sleeve. The constable standing behind him wasn’t so quick, or so lucky, and he was knocked flying and hit the cobbles with a sickening thud. A gasp escaped from between his lips. Then he lay still as the German took to his heels and raced away.

‘Quick! After him!’ the DI yelled to the other policemen. They were standing horrified, rooted to the spot. Galvanised into action by his shout, they began running after the retreating figure who already had a head start. As he turned the corner round the warehouses the leading PC was a good 50 feet behind. ‘Arrgh!’ Russell groaned. ‘For God’s sake, don’t let him get away.’

Minutes passed while Russell and Weeks, the sodden soldier and the winded PC, sitting dazed on the cobbles, waited on the quayside. Russell slid back the wet cuff of his jacket, looked at his watch and let out a grunt of frustration. Then, around the corner of the warehouses a group of blue uniforms appeared, but without the German. ‘What!’ the DI yelled, ‘Where’s Wolfang?’

‘We lost him, Sir,’ the leading policeman panted sheepishly.

‘But both his hands were tied! He was soaked and dazed!’

‘I know, Sir,’ his companion continued. ‘He ducked down an alley, we followed, but by the time we got to the end there was no sign of him. He’s a tough brute.’

‘Yes, we know that, but he can’t have vanished into thin air…. can he?’

‘No, Sir.’ The five PCs were standing in a dejected huddle.

‘Well, go and look again! Search the warehouses from top to bottom. I want that man found! Go! Now!’ The constables headed back to the warehouses. Russell turned to Weeks then prodded Rankin in the chest with his finger. ‘Come on. Let’s get this miserable specimen back to the station. Perhaps we can get some sense out of him now.’

-0-

‘So let me get this straight. You’ve lost our prime suspect and this…’ he pointed a quivering finger at the khaki-clad figure, slumped in a chair.

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